The Cold Night
by agentcarter12
Summary: Marcel throws another gala; two couples get together and dance. Halijah and klamille.


The second party Marcel threw blew away everyone. Small platforms studded the floor on which extravagant women and men performed, their hands covered in glitter, their face hidden by the masks, which were elaborately designed. It was cold outside.

Rebekah didn't even bother coming, she chose to sit at home and seethe about basically everything. '_I don't care about him anymore._' She had said, when Hayley had kindly inquired that the real reason behind her absence was her old flame. The reply was punctuated with a growl, to which Haley put up her hands, and innocently asked her for a gown that she could wear.

Elijah was accompanying them, something not one of the originals had expected. They'd all been moving around here and there, Rebekah holding a glass of wine, and talking to Hayley about how some black high heels would compliment her lovely dress, which Rebekah had picked out. Elijah had poofed in, which was Hayley's new way of explaining original vampire-speed, and asked rebekah if she was sure she didn't want to come, since no one was going to be there. Hayley had dropped her purse, and Rebekah had narrowed her eyes, bombarding her brother with questions about his motives.

"_Sometimes even I like to attend a good party. Especially after I've just been un-daggered." _His reply was, although his eyes rested on Hayley. Hayley refused to acknowledge the thought that he was coming because of her. The last sentence was louder. A few moments later, the sound of a dagger being thrown against a wall could be heard, which meant the taunt had been received by Niklaus in his 'good-natured' daggering-people way.

And now, all three of them, two originals and one werewolf with a miracle pregnancy, were standing in a large room filled with extravagance, and glamour. The curtains were shiny silver, covered in tatters of golden net. Almost everyone wore profligate gowns, covered in countless colors; sequins, flashing ornaments, feathers, beads and what not, with their hair tied in messy buns, or piled up on someone's head. Some hair had diamonds sparkling in them, matching their gowns. It hurt Hayley's eyes, the way the excessive and showy gowns shone in the white light that scattered across the floor in beams.

She stood there, hearing the music change from modern pop to a slow love song. She didn't know how she'd ended up alone, since everyone had entered the area together, but somehow she'd ended up on her own. And then, he was beside her. The good brother. The moral person who'd asked her how she felt, and given her his jacket, and made her have hope in chivalry not being dead. Her savior.

He offered her a hand, asking her if she wanted to dance. She scoffed, a smile illuminating our features, and took his hand, as he guided her to the dance floor.

"Don't mind if I'm not good. I haven't really attended ball room dances. Ever. I tripped on this dress at least five times trying to move." She alleged, and then mentally kicked herself because of her stupid mouth which seemed to say whatever it wanted to without even asking permission of her mind.

"Not something that should worry you. Follow my lead. I've had some practice." He replied, his hand against her back.

"Only a thousand years worth, right?" She responded, cracking a smile.

He smiled a little too, pushing her away, and then pulling her back into his arms, without letting her comprehend it. She laughed then, holding on to him, as her heels refused to support her. He didn't mind the slightest, laughing along with her.

Klaus moved along, before his eyes fell on the bartender who he'd talked to just a day ago. She'd been pouring him the most expensive wine in the bar, unable to pronounce the name properly.

"This is really ironic, since my name's French, and I can't articulate the name of a French wine!" she'd good naturedly complained, as he'd smiled at her. And then, he'd invited her to the second gala Marcel was throwing, and she'd said she'd consider coming, seeing if she had enough time to pick out a dress and what not.

He knew he shouldn't be dancing with her at that moment, surrounded by the perfect back drop for a kiss. He was taking advantage of her. He was manipulating her, since she was one of the people who didn't know anything about him. With her, he had a clean slate. He thought of doing the right thing, then, for once. To not be selfish.

Surrounded by flashing lights, music, extravagant performers, back in the city that he'd known as his home once, where he'd been most happy, he thought of doing the right thing. But he knew it in his heart all along. He was selfish. And he was not the person who did the right thing.

So, he danced with her, the blonde haired beauty wearing the white and silver evening dress, with golden lines that started from the top of her dress, and curved deliberately into patterns that led to the bottom of it.

She smiled at him, and he smiled back at her.

She knew she should be studying right now. Putting in more hours into it, instead of dancing in high pencil heels she wouldn't normally dare wear anywhere. But the thought drifted out of her head. She was perfectly content right here. And so was he.

The night was cold outside.

**A/N: just something I felt like writing. Don't ask me why or how or what. I don't know. Reviews will be highly appreciated, and I will always love you for it. Thank you. Hope you liked it.**


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